


Brevity

by Mems



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, One Shot, flexing my fingers slowly for the fandom, millicent is there too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 15:31:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5972020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mems/pseuds/Mems
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mornings are the only times Hux gets to relax.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brevity

**Author's Note:**

> This was a small one shot I wrote for my blog while working on writing for Hux. Basically just Hux in the mornings before he's all 'let's destroy an entire planetary system today.' Yanno. The usual. Ft. the fandom favorite Millicent, Hux's cat. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos always welcome :)

Hux's mornings are early, filled with the scent of steeped tea and the sharp cleanliness of his quarters. There is a quiet so imposing he might as well be in the empty vacuum of space just outside , passed the thick glass that separates him from the void, but he welcomes the stillness the early hours afford him. It's not like he'll get this for the rest of the day and even a short relief is relief.  

He roams his quarters half-dressed as he preps his rationed breakfast and drinks his tea (one luxury item he orders extra.) Pants not even buckled to his waist, no shoes yet, just two mish-matched black socks on his feet until he's awake enough to pay attention. In those hours, he hasn't even bothered with his hair. The red, bed-ridden mess falls in his face – easily swept aside and back when it gets in the way of his morning reading, reports from the day before with consequences that will be dealt with in the following hours. Work is never truly done.

Seated on the small desk his quarters allow, Millicent eats the food he set out for her when he first woke. It's a tiny black dish of rehydrated fish; it smells awful but she enjoys it so he deals with it. She eats with satisfied purrs before hopping down, circling his legs and transferring several fluffy, red furs to his pant legs as her tail winds around his calf.

_Mill, why?_ is the futile thought that goes through his mind, knowing he will have to clean those later before arriving on deck. He reaches down and scratches behind her ears anyway and she purrs, licks his fingertips, and slinks off to Hux's already made-up bed – no doubt to leave more ginger fur.

He has an hour of this, an hour and a half on days he's lucky. Holopad in one hand, tea in the other, the sounds of a happy cat coming from his bed. The silence breaks when there's a knock at his door, just as he's sliding his boots over newly-de-furred pants.

The morning's never last long enough.


End file.
